One For Every Kiss
by GennaCide
Summary: In the events after The Dark World, Loki finds nothing but his solitude. Once more the shy and naive boy that had never been kissed, he sets off to the world that he had been labeled a murderer to find a place to hide away. Instead, he finds something completely new and refreshing in a pretty, warm-hearted girl. This is a LokixReader insert. Age rating subject to change.
1. Never Been Kissed

_Parties._

After Asgard survived the assault from the dark elves a few months back, and peace was restored on Earth, everyone was in a partying mood. The sounds of drunken gay laughter rang through the streets in all the nine realms, and it was the loudest on the main street that led to the palace of Asgard.

Odin had since awoken from his sleep and was still grieving over Frigga, but he was dealing with it in the best way he knew how. As triumphant as Loki's second reign was, it was short yet again, and he had to bolt once his adoptive father stirred. He enjoyed giving out orders and tricking Thor, although he had to do it by convincing everyone he was Odin. He'd be found out after father woke, and not a minute before. He had taken some precautions in hiding the old man when he slipped into the sleep after finding out that he had not only lost his wife, but also supposedly his son. Had he been caught, he probably would get sent back to his cell the moment the guards noticed there were two of them.

Loki rubbed his temple as he hid under his cloak in the dark corner of a pub's outdoor area on the main road, first pitcher of ale in his right hand, nearly empty. Where was he to go now? He couldn't very well stay in Asgard, or go to Jotenheim after his stunt a few years back. He certainly wasn't welcome on Earth. No, not after what he had pulled. Not to mention, the Chitauri were out for his blood after his unapologetic failure. There really wasn't anywhere he could go. He reflected on his past, and the idea that perhaps that he shouldn't have been so bad. Loki wasn't safe anywhere, but there wasn't really an option to start over.

He didn't want to think that his days were numbered, and he might end up living them out alone, cold, in a crevice somewhere, starving. The other option would be not to hide and wait for someone to come hunting for his head. But then again, it's not like most would afford him the luxury of a quick death.

Loki shook his head at the thought.

A feathery touch unintentionally brushed his sleeve as the young barmaid brought his drink and a biscuit to him. The accident sent a tingle through his nerves. Although he was a god that had lived over a thousand years, he was still innocent in the ways with women. Sure he tried to uphold his devil-may-care attitude, but it was just his way of hiding how lonely he really was. All the girls fell for Thor, Fandral…even that Hogun guy had seen more action and kissed more maidens than Loki had.

When he was younger, he had tried to fit in more with Thor, who had made friends with this lovely doe-eyed girl, Sif. She was his first crush and obsession, but like all the girls that would follow, she didn't really notice Loki. When Sif and Thor met, along with the warriors three, Loki was always the odd one. He was only there because he was Thor's brother. In time, he moved on, but every girl was the same. They all swooned over Mighty Prince Thor or Sir Fandral, or at the very least, not interested in silly little prankster Loki. His heart grew cold, and his attitude impatient with women.

When Jane had assaulted him in the castle before their escape last month, he had grown so desperate for female attention that he got turned on by a simple touch, however brutal it was. But of course, she was Thor's true love, and he hers. Loki wondered what had possessed him to almost die for a woman that he knew would never be his, and a mortal at that! He was not really interested in being mistreated. Despite the cruel things he had done, he only ever really wanted to be held and kissed by a pretty girl, whispering pretty things, especially on this beautiful night.

"I wish someone would love me. Just me," Loki said to no one as he looked up into the blackened cerulean night sky splattered with teeming constellations from the corner of the patio on which he sat, upon seeing a star fly across the night sky. Loki didn't want solitude anymore.

Downing his very strong ale in one go, he paid and left. There wasn't anywhere in Asgard for him to stay. He was lucky that no one had yet recognized him now that he had grown out some of his facial hair and wore a cloak. He decided to find his way to Earthrealm the same way he had in times past. It had been almost two years since his attack, he looked different now, and in the event someone recognized him, the people there would be far less lethal than in most of the other places that came to mind.

After a few wrong turns thanks to the side effects of the drink he had earlier, he found his way to Earthrealm, or Midgard, in a place they call "Lost – Angels, California". 'Funny name for a city,' Loki thought. Before he stepped out into the night on the busy boulevard with all these lights, blaring horns and sidewalks adorned with names, he realized that he could no longer stand what he was wearing. He needed to get away from what he was. He needed to lie low.

For a wardrobe change, he decided to adorn his much beloved black suit with green scarf. As much as he liked the difference his beard made, Loki decided it wasn't really him. He got rid of it with a bit of magic, and then decided perhaps he should try some shorter hair, like he had several years before.

He sauntered down the street in style. Earning a mixture of looks from a few humans, but mostly ignored. Thankfully, he was not too conspicuous. As Loki rounds the corner, he bumps into something sopping wet and brown. The thing he bumped into lets out a soft cry.

_A/N: I based this story off of a small group of collective confessions off the NaughtyLokiConfessions tumblr blog. It's taken me a while to post this, and I do apologize. Let me know what you think. This chapter is just the tip of the iceberg before the Titanic comes crashing into it and Celine starts singing._


	2. His Royal Heinous

Reader POV

My birthday is tomorrow! I have been so swamped with school, and work, and more work that I had completely forgotten to pick up a few essentials from the market that I had also forgotten last weekend when I went shopping for the ham. Mother was visiting from the east coast this year, and eager to sit down for a feast with the roommates, the feast that I so foolishly promised to make on my own. I stride quickly around the corner to your car, chef specialty sauce in hand, when I suddenly walk into something tall, dressed in black and walking in the opposite direction.

Next thing I know, I find myself with my butt on the sidewalk. The stranger in front of me now wearing that very tangy brown special sauce that I had to wait around four hours for. He looks distraught. Immediately, I apologize and offer to pay for some dry cleaning or even to clean it myself if he needed it right away.

He says nothing for what seems like forever.

The man just sulks and glowers simultaneously for a moment before he yells, "INSOLENT GIRL!" while glaring.

I am taken aback, but I have never been a doormat. I am not sure whether I should apologize again and be done with it, or argue back.

Not knowing what to do with him, I gather my things and continue to where my car is parked, leaving the stranger to his own destruction. Things certainly could have gone better. I guess, I will have to cook with regular barbeque sauce this time around.

"Wait!" he calls after me. "I thought you said you'd fix this." He watches me walk away, as I pretend not to hear him.

"I COMMAND YOU TO STOP!" the stranger bellows in his otherwise charming and articulate accent.

I whip myself around sharply and glare knives at him. "Oh you COMMAND me? Who are you? The Queen? Or maybe you think you're a god!" I shout before I continue on my less-than-merry way.

The man, wanting to respond to my last words, seems to hesitate.

Then I hear footsteps behind me as I keep my head down, eyes forward and power walk down the boulevard, and look to see him walking beside me. Now how on earth did he catch up so quickly?

He looks down and then stutters something. "Look. Can you fix this? I want to get it clean as soon as possible" the stranger says.

Wanting to slap him silly, but trying not to make a scene, I look at the man and give him a small, forced smile. "You may come back with me. I can get it cleaned quickly. Then you can go back home or I can give you a ride to where you're staying. Sound good?" I reply.

He gives me a confused look. I ask him, "Do you know where you're staying?"

The stranger just cocks his head to the side.

* * *

After arriving at the house that I cohabit with my best friend, Justine, and her boyfriend, I offer him some gourmet cupcakes and orange juice, which he eats a little bit.

During the car ride, he told me that his name is Loki and he was from some place called Asgard. I've never heard of Asgard, but it's probably safe to assume it's someplace in England from how he sounds.

From this conversation, I paid some attention to how smooth and sweet his voice was. It just makes my insides all soft and mushy however much I try to avoid feeling like that. It almost made up for the rudeness he had exhibited earlier. Yes, Loki could charm a stone maiden to death if he would only stop being so much like, well, himself.

* * *

A/N: Yeah, a short chapter, but there is a method to the madness. I didn't want to have Loki and the OC have too much of a change in direction in what appears to be such a short lapse of time.

There is also a reason as to why I chose the story title. It will come in later chapters. Thank you wonderful ladies for your views, and the one person for her review!

I would say please R+R, but I won't make you. ^_~


	3. He Loves Me Not

Reader POV

I ask him for his jacket and shirt and gesture at my room for him to change into some sweats that belonged to Justine's boyfriend, unless he wanted to be washed along with his clothes. He laughed at this joke in his velvety voice, which was very addictive. I swoon a little bit and give a small, genuine smile.

This was weird for two reasons. First of all, most people find my jokes utterly un-funny in most cases, or unashamedly corny in the other instances. Secondly, I don't smile a whole lot.

Loki complies without a second thought and removes his jacket and shirt right on the spot and hands it to me, forgetting all about privacy.

Justine chooses this moment to burst through the front door, to witness myself standing in the kitchen with a half-naked man that she did not recognize. Even worse, I appear to be eyeing his marble skin and handsome features a bit at the moment she walks in on you. It was just a second glance because I got caught by something unexpected and did a double take, but it's impossible to convince her that her romantic-sexual instincts are incorrect.

_'The only thing that would make this more incriminating would be if I were feeding the cake to him,'_ I thought to myself. Before any comments can be made, I leave to go clean dry clean his clothes with the home dry cleaning kit, and some bleach.

* * *

In the meantime, there isn't much conversation in the kitchen, as Justine made herself busy sorting the dishes and Loki was preoccupied with trying to unwrap one of the cupcakes without tearing the wrapper, or damaging the desert, without much success. He doesn't acknowledge me at first, but Justine friend gives me a wink and motions for me to follow her to her room. I follow her before she shuts the door.

"Where did you find this one? Some British host club?" she breathed.

"Whoa, Whoa! Wait," I manage to choke out, "I walked into him when I was picking up the ingredients, then I spilled the sauce all over him and brought the guy over to clean him off."

It wasn't the most satisfying reply, but it was what happened. Why did I bring Loki back to your place anyway? Would it not have been easier to offer him dry cleaning money, drop him off at a cheap motel and be done with it? What DID make me do this for such a pretentious stranger?

She gives an all-knowing look and replies, "Uh-huh," before turning to exit the room to return to the kitchen. "How long do you plan to keep him afterwards? Maybe spill some more liquids on that spiffy suit of his? Give yourself the excuse?"

Enraged, I throw the empty cleaning solution bottle at her before she ducks behind the door.

"I've seen how you look at each other," she pops in to add with a wink before closing the door to prevent further projectiles being launched at her head.

* * *

I've got no idea what she was referring to with that last comment. I'm not really the kind of girl that every boy lined up to ask to prom as a teenager, although I wasn't by any means bad looking. I just never really had much luck with the opposite sex in getting much further than a first date, if I even got that far.

The only man that presented himself to me as an option those years was this adorable, quirky guy named Patrick. I was in my senior year at the university, and he had been working for a few years. At least, that was all he seemed at first. The guy seemed interested. As the relationship progressed, we grew apart. He stopped picking up my calls and answering texts. People even made excuses for him, which I was stupid enough to believe.

It turns out that Patrick and I had very different views regarding our relationship. While I saw us as best friends and as this very romantic couple, he just wanted to be friends with benefits. When he felt that I was starting to want too much, he told me he needed to distance himself to, "keep me from getting any ideas." That conversation 3 years ago was followed by a downward spiral of drinking, badmouthing and bad decisions that I didn't want to repeat ever again.

This past November, something unremarkable happened. It had been two and a half years since the last time I saw Patrick, when he popped back into my life. I had since stopped talking to the people that we knew mutually and had graduated from my masters program, with honors and an entry-level job at the firm. I figured that it would be best that I channeled my energy into doing something positive for myself. Patrick just showed up at my graduation party and asked how I was, offered to buy me a drink and all that normal stuff.

Our words to each other were kind, neutral and professional. I was over being angry and wishing to cut out his ovaries with a spork. Hate required passion, much like love, and I had decided that this boy was no longer worth mine.

No, I was never very good at recognizing the signs when it came to romance, or lack of it. It all seemed like a complicated language that I could never get right.

* * *

My thoughts snapped back to the present. I exited the room and headed down to the kitchen, where Loki is having some light banter with Justine over the television show, 2 Broke Girls, that had just come on. She believed that Loki's theories linking cupcakes to world domination were completely absurd, and he, in turn, looked like he was ready to stuff cupcakes into her mouth until she gave up on the argument. He was just so cute when he was riled up.

Loki immediately stopped what he was doing and gave me a sheepish grin.

My stomach tugs at my heart just a little bit, but I try not to get swept up.

* * *

A/N: Many things and people in this story have very bad timing, but that's part of the beauty of it. Next chapter is much less of a snore, I promise. This chapter was more of a background to set up the events later on in the story.


	4. Duck You, Man

Reader POV

At that exact moment, the laundry timer goes off, signaling that the dry cleaning was done. Of course this also meant that Loki had no more reason to be here, although his original reason wasn't extremely compelling to begin with.

He looks a bit alarmed at the offensive noise and crinkles his nose a little bit. It was kind of adorable.

Wait. Adorable? You couldn't afford to get too attached to someone that you probably would never see again after today.

* * *

Life has taught me many things about the cruelty and carelessness of human males. I had almost forgotten. This smooth, clever S.O.B. probably has pulled this with countless women, leaving them sobbing messes, but it probably didn't matter because there would always be others. Besides, why would he choose someone like me? I am nobody, really. I do not endow my man with bragging rights.

It would be foolish to think Loki to want different things from a girl than most of the guys his age she ever met just because he was a

unusual at times. Perhaps it was all a surface persona to hide what was underneath, or maybe he was just eccentric.

I went to fetch his clothing and motioned for him to use my room for changing.

* * *

Loki's POV

I look to (name) when I hear her coming back into the room. I was in the middle of trying to coerce her female companion and living mate out of her stupidity. How this silly girl saw things her way was beyond me!

(Name) gave me a thoughtful look and I returned it. Although, right afterwards, her expression suddenly looked a little sad, then changed to conflicted, and then went blank as she went to get my clothes from that noisy machine.

Had I done something wrong? Midgardian women were so complicated!

* * *

I now stand here, changing out of these offensive rags that her companion has lent me. It reaks of athlete sweat and cheap fragrance despite being laundered. I really need to bathe myself.

"(name)! I wish to bathe," I declare.

"Oh sure, go right ahead," reply two voices from the other side of the door.

* * *

I waited.

No one came, so I called out again.

(name) comes stumbling into the room with her brown hair falling slightly out of place, wearing an unamused expression. "Is there something you need? Wine? A rubber ducky? A massage while I feed you some grapes and cheese?" she says in a flat voice.

What had her so upset? Her moods change too quickly, this crazy girl.

"You may prepare my bath now, and yes, bring the wine, grapes and give me a massage. I don't know what you mean by rubber ducky, but bring that as well," I reply.

She only responds with the most incredulous gawk before dismissing her thoughts and starting the bath and tossing a variety of liquids and salts into the tub. The expression she wore was so unattractive on her pretty face. I wish she would serve me more pleasantly, looking at me honestly and innocently with those eyes, and tempting me with those lovely lips.

She did have nice lips...

* * *

When my bath is ready, I look at her expectantly as she starts to leave the room. "Where are you going? I need to be disrobed and bathed properly," I state.

Reader POV

I must have heard him wrong, but the guy just asked me to take his clothes off after having just met me. He certainly behaves like he thinks he's the queen of everything. Either that or has a strange kink for ordering people around.

Unfortunately, I heard him correctly because I was soon delicately peeling off the tshirt and freeing him of the sweat pants that my roommate lent him. I tried not to look at his very, VERY nice ass, or what was on the other side. And with that, I allowed him to slip into the frothy water until it reached his mid chest, thankful that he at least did that on his own.

Just who was this guy, and why did he act like this?

Once more, I turn to leave, denying him the opportunity to beckon me back.

* * *

My roomie unabashedly opens the door at this precise moment, wearing a goofy crooked smile on her face, to bring in a tray with two glasses of pinot noir, a plate of grapes and a small plate of cheese. To my chagrin, she also brings a small army of rubber ducks in a terry cloth bag, which she empties into the bubbly confection that I made for my "guest."

"I am terribly sorry to interrupt this loving moment, but I overheard my friend here offer to drink with you and feed you as you enjoy yourself here. I thought it would be rude of her not to follow through," she beams at Loki enthusiastically.

Damn her to all nine Hells.

* * *

A/N: The title of this chapter refers to how the OC must feel about Justine right about now. Clever, huh? ^_~


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